Whistle, Sick Hate



I recite I love you.

Need you, touch you.

You tell me it’s nothing.

Hate that response.

I show you my skin, my inner being.

You show me the door.

But this is what you want.

Do I calibrate my emotions for you?

Alternate ending dawning into play.

Or should I act the way that you do?

Pretending nothing I do is what I say.

Now I’m showing weaknesses I shouldn’t.

Pressing breaths just to say your name.

You try to show me feelings I swear you couldn’t.

Don’t include my heart in your rise to fame.

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